Smarmy, vacuous, humourless and odious pairing of slimeballs on the BBC1 brekkie slot. Their attempts at clever humour are completely flat, and Silverton's craving to be taken seriously as a cultural, political and artistic heavyweight stands out when she tries to make her autocue sound like the spontaneous intelligent inputs of a philosophical behemoth. Sadly, she ends up sounding like a schoolgirl reporting some shite for the school mag but trying to sound smug and knowledgeable. Turnbull on the other hand thinks he is the reincarnation of Paxman with a bit of Frost thrown in, when in reality he sounds more like a mix of Les Dennis and Victor Meldrew without the humour. Both are aspiring graduates of the Kaplinsky school of desperation to be praised at the altar of serious journalism. Get off my screen NOW, twats